Remind me, I like it.
I can't actually remember if I've seen a cougar. They were all over the mountains in northern Utah, and I remember that I thought I had seen one far in the distance, but I can't remember whether I decided if I had seen one for sure, but I remember that I had made up my mind one way or the other. The confusion is because somebody was attacked not long after in the same area, so I had a "close call" moment in my head, but I remember doubting whether or not I had determined that it was a real close call. Any statement that I might try to make about that event today is in danger of being a lie.
But, I'm definitely sure that I saw a reasonably fresh paw print at an alpine pond I used to visit. It was alarmingly big. To protect myself and my family, I began clapping my hands together and loudly singing a song called something like "Hey go fuck yourself, Cougar" which became "Hey go fuck yourself, John Cougar Mellonball" because it made my brother laugh (this part is most likely not true). What I'm trying to say is that Gal Gadot is damn near an official cougar now (35 is my cutoff) and I greatly prefer making love on her over possibly being eaten next to a lake that doesn't even have any goddamn fish in it.